Deadly Musings
by Scaevus
Summary: Harry walks towards his death in the Forbidden Forest, but with a twist. Begins at pg. 696 in the Deathly Hallows. Slightly suicidal, slightly dark. Totally a one-shot. Reviews greatly appreciated.


**Hey guys, this is just a one-shot. I was just kinda thinking, what if Harry asked Voldemort to kill him? It's kinda a slight suicide theme, but not as dark. Tell me what you think!**

Harry numbly watched Ginny kneel over the unknown girl's body, whispering false assurances. He caused that. If only he had defeated Voldemort before….maybe then this girl wouldn't lay dying far from home, alone and young. His eyes scoured over Ginny-the way her hair feathered down here back, the shape of her eyes, the color of her skin, the freckles on her nose. And then his gaze moved on, taking in the crumbling ruins of the castle walls. Figures drifted in and out of the great gashes in the stone, sometimes bringing limp bodies over their shoulders. The dark sky was speckled with stars, balls of burning fire far away. Harry closed his eyes, walking toward his unintended goal. Was this really it? He would die like a good little boy, following Dumbledore's plan and 'saving' the world?

Harry twisted the Snitch in his pocket. His gentle, quivering fingers closed around the golden orb and brought it to his lips. _I am about to die._

The words slipped past his lips, and the Snitch opened. Of course, Harry didn't even have to look. He knew that Dumbledore would give him the Resurrection Stone as one last gift, so that he could see the people he was about to meet. Sick to his stomach, Harry clenched his fingers around the stone, and tried to stop the terrible shaking in his limbs. Why did it have to be him? Why not someone else? He had barely lived. His whole life was in fear, fear of the Dursley's, fear of Voldemort, fear of losing everything he ever had. And now…

Harry hurled the stone as far as he could away from his grasp. Anger washed out every other emotion in his body, and his muscles tightened, casting out the absurd shivering. Heat shoved out the midnight cold, and Harry marched into the woods under the Cloak. Twigs snapped recklessly as Harry ground his jaw. Dumbledore had raised the wrong pig for slaughter.

Harry whipped off the Cloak, and stuffed it in his back pocket. Ahead, he could see Yaxley and Dolohov waiting for him. Raising his wand, Harry fired curses silently at the two Death Eaters. They didn't even have time to yell, they just fell to the ground. Harry felt for their pulses. Dead.

At this point, Harry didn't care. He didn't even care that he had just killed two human beings.

Striding over the forest floor, Harry held his wand tightly in his grasp, eying the shadows, should they behold some unworldly evil. He started to move more quietly, hoping to surprise Voldemort with his presence.

Through the trees, he could make out the white skin, and red eyes of the Dark Lord himself. Standing still, Harry watched him scan the trees before talking to one of his Death Eaters.

"I thought he would come. I expected him to come."

The Death Eater, now defined as Bellatrix, shifted her weight as she eyed Voldemort.

"My Lord, it is past the hour. Certainly I- we can attack now?" Even from afar, her eyes rippled with savage hunger.

Voldemort turned the Elder Wand over in his hands, fingers trailing the ancient carvings in its wood. He turned toward his followers, who stood expectantly.

Harry's feet began to carry him swiftly towards the clearing. He watched as Voldemort's dark robes rustled the leaves, and at some point his subconscious realized that Hagrid was bound up with thick ropes, and guarded by Rowle. He saw some of Voldemort's Death Eaters draw their wands for battle, and some licked their bloodied lips with anticipation. He saw two third years, standing next to their fathers and mothers, holding hands secretly and staring at the ground in fear. He saw all of this, but it did not matter. His mind chugged along a single track, blocking all distractions. One thought ricocheted in his skull, gaining momentum and volume. _Kill._

His Slytherin side, long forgotten in the midst of bravery, slithered into his thoughts. And so when he stepped out from the dark foliage, he had a plan.

"Voldemort."

The single word ushered a heavy silence as the Dark Lord turned around to face Harry.

"Harry Potter." his voice was soft. "I was expecting you."

Harry took three more steps, a confident smirk adorning his lips. "My, my. How long had it been, Tom? I must say," Harry looked around at the Death Eaters. "Your group seem a bit...smaller."

Rage lit the faces of many Death Eaters as they remembered their fallen, but they held their line.

Harry met Voldemort's fierce gaze. "I was expecting a bigger welcome."

Voldemort seemed amused by Harry. "Give up, Harry. Give me your wand-stop this useless fighting."

Harry shook his head and forced a laugh. "Isn't that what I'm doing?" Harry held his hands out in surrender. "Giving into your power?"

At the word power, Voldemort's snake-like eyes gleamed.

Harry eyed Hagrid, who had long been silenced by Rowle. His black eyes begged for Harry to fight as he struggled against his own bonds.

"I have one request."

Tom Riddle smiled. "And what would that be? To spare Ginny?" Her name came out of his vile mouth in a sneer.

Harry, against his better judgment, shook his head. "No, my request would be to kill me."

Voldemort tilted his head to the side, watching Harry like a curious child. "And here I would have expected you to beg for your friends lives."

Harry took his wand out from his pocket, admiring its beauty for the last time. "Isn't that what you've already promised me? If I give myself up, my friends will be spared?"

That familiar cold, high laughter shook Harry's gut. His heart twisted, realizing that by now he couldn't go back. He couldn't give up now. "But I've also realized something. You would never keep your word to me, so being the Slytherin you are, you would weasel your way out of it." Harry snapped Draco Malfoy's wand in his hand, and let the pieces fall to the ground. "Unfortunately for you, I no longer care about what happens to them."

Voldemort's mouth lurched into a sick smile. "Oh, really?"

Harry shrugged, trying to play off his major bluff. "You don't seem to realize what they've done to me. I can't stand them anymore. So, I need you to kill me. Dumbledore tricked me into believing that he gave a shit about me, and put my life on the line to save his own holy ass." Harry looked Voldemort in the eye, and quieted his quaking muscles.

"Kill me."

Lord Voldemort held the Elder Wand carefully, and walked up until its tip dug into his chest, right above his heart.

"I am not like you. Here I am, begging for death. But I do have two words I need to say."

Harry smirked. "Fuck you."

Lord Voldemort's lungs drew in air in a mad rush, before expelling the air in a two-worded reply.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

 **Hey, its Scaevus! Leave me a review, the only way I can get better is if you tell me how. :)**


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